


stranger’s dream

by retweet_this



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Not Really Character Death, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:52:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14410347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retweet_this/pseuds/retweet_this
Summary: the pauli exclusion principle. he doesn’t know the exact wording but he knows the basics. he knows something is wrong here.there are two bodies occupying the same space.





	stranger’s dream

**Author's Note:**

> aka the awake (tv) au no one asked for

there is a car crash. there are two people in the car crash. there are an infinite number of possibilities of the consequences of that crash.

he’s left with two of the bad ones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a phone call from emily. eerily calm and voice level, telling him to come to the hospital. “something happened. something – something very bad happened.”

 

emily at his doorstep. a sobbing wreck, barely able to get any words out. she clings to lovett the moment he opens the door and he sees the call from the hospital on her phone.

 

everything happens all at once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

two bodies. one draped in cloth and motionless, he passes it by on the way to the room; the other lying back and looking like the loneliest man in the world.

 

tommy stares at his hands, expressionless, eyes vacant, he doesn’t even look up when lovett walks in. emily does, though. she gets up from the chair at his bedside and lets him press his face into his shoulder as he waits for the tears to fall. he didn’t think they’d come but they do and it leaves him empty inside.

 

jon is sleeping when they get there, mask over his mouth to help him breathe. emily runs to him, her knees nearly giving out as she grips the side of the bed and sobs over his form. lovett stands beside her and wraps an arm around her, letting her lean against him as she just lets it all out.

 

the pauli exclusion principle. he doesn’t know the exact wording but he knows the basics. he knows something is wrong here.

there are two bodies occupying the same space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

someone once told him that hospitals are liminal space. or maybe he read that somewhere. whatever. that’s not the point here. the point is, he can’t focus on being there for the people he loves when there is this inherent sense of wrongness and unease in the air, a sense of un-belonging.

at first, everything seems to happen all at once. the diagnosis from the doctors are different, the events of the accident are different – because in one (side? universe? reality?) the car hits the driver’s side and in the other the car hits the passenger’s side – but the outcomes are the same.

one of them comes unscathed and the other. the other. the other.

the other.

 

back to the liminal space thing. it makes him feel sick, queasy, a permanent uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. he’s not sure if it’s because of the – whatever he’s going through or the fact that his friends. his friends. his. his. his friends.

 

it’s been one night. he and emily are sleeping on uncomfortable chairs by the bed. lovett has his legs pressed up against his chest and he’s only dozing off for minutes at a time.

he’ll close his eyes to tommy’s back and open them to jon curled up on himself. and when he opens his eyes again, there’s tommy.

somewhere around there, everything fractures into parallels.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

jon holds his hands in his head and cries when they tell him what happened. lovett’s never seen him cry before. tears roll down his cheeks and snot drips out of his nose and his entire face is wet and pink and he’s just so unashamed in his sorrow.

unashamed might not be the exact word he’s looking for. jon would know. but he’s too busy crying.

 

tommy doesn’t cry at first, only because he doesn’t accept the news at first. he shakes his head and keeps saying it can’t be true and emily has to grab both his hands and look him in the eyes for him to realize what happened.

he doesn’t cry like a statue either. he hiccups and wheezes and dry-heaves into the trashcan. it’s all terribly human.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

everything feels like a dream.

when he wakes up, it’s just another dream.

more like an endless nightmare on a loop.

in two different places, he wakes up to the sound of someone sobbing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

they take tommy home the next morning. he’s on crutches, nothing’s severely damaged, he’ll probably walk away (ha) from this fine.

except he won’t because his friend just. he just.

and jon’s parents have flown in, emily’s going to go pick up andy and meet them at the airport and they’re gonna. they’re gonna.

“i can come with,” lovett offers. he doesn’t know how he can help. but he needs something to get out of his head. however deep in his head he is. “if you need someone to…”

“i’ve got this,” she tells him. there’s a look in her eyes, like all the light has gone out. he wonders how long she spent sobbing before she called him. if she even let herself cry yet. she’s so young and she’s put this all on her own shoulders.

he doesn’t know how to tell her she doesn’t have to bear this burden alone, so he just watches her leave.

tommy lies back on his couch and flips through channels. he lands on some history channel documentary and drops the remote beside him.

lovett stands awkwardly by the door for a few moments. “is it okay if i run out for a bit and grab pundit?” he asks.

“you don’t need to stay here,” tommy replies. he doesn’t even turn around to look at him. lovett is a little grateful.

yeah, but i don’t want you to be alone either, he thinks. i don’t know what’s going through your head. i don’t know what’s going through my head. i think i wanna throw up and i need my dog.

“i’ll be right back,” he says.

he almost doesn’t, though, because when he gets home and pundit runs into his arms, he thinks about just staying there. away from the world and everyone else.

but he doesn’t. he goes back to tommy’s. pundit lies between them on the couch and they sit and watch the history channel, aliens and pawn stars and commercials and all, without once reaching for the remote.

 

jon’s brain scans and tests take up most of the day, before they conclude it’s just a concussion and he’s allowed to go home.

he doesn’t go immediately. “can i…” he swallows hard and looks up at the nurse, fidgeting with the end of his blanket. “can i see him?”

lovett’s pretty sure it’s not standard hospital protocol to let someone see a dead body but they let him go. emily goes with him, although lovett can tell she doesn’t want to. she was waiting for jon’s parents to see his body anyway. stands to reason she wouldn’t want to see tommy’s, unless she had to.

“you’re not going?” jon asks. lovett never noticed before how he wears all his emotions right on his face. right there for everyone to see. he doesn’t even try to hide it.

lovett shakes his head. it’ll take too much energy to explain that he doesn’t think his mind can further handle the dichotomy of realities by physically seeing where they differ. not when he’s gonna wake up next to tommy on the couch.

he waits for them by the car. emily’s run out of tears by now and jon is just sort of. out of it, in a way that lovett isn’t sure of what to make of.

they have to help him into the backseat of the car and emily holds his hand the whole ride back to their house. he gets out faster than he should when they’ve parked, already heading for the door. he even forgets to say goodbye.

lovett clears his throat. “if you need anything…”

“thanks,” emily says, “but i think we need some time to just… process.” she swallows hard. “i have to call his parents.”

“oh.” he doesn’t know what else to say, so he goes home.

the history channel has the exact same stuff as it did in the other – whatever – so he watches the golden girls marathon on hallmark. he wonders if he’ll have dreams about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

emily’s reactions are. hm.

emily’s reactions, he’s focusing on them because he has no idea what he’s going through. because he doesn’t want to think about how fucked up he feels. whatever it even means.

she’s sobbing in one universe and she’s completely stone-faced in the other. and the other is the one where her husband is. is. he’s. yeah.

what he lands on is, based on the way she grips jon’s hands in one world and the way she stands alone in the other, is that there’s a difference between the uncertainty of not knowing and the finality of knowing.

your husband could have died and you can only imagine the pain you might’ve felt and it feels like the end of the world. and then your husband dies and you feel all that pain and it is the end of the world and it’s maybe different than you thought it would be.

lovett wouldn’t know. he’s not sure he knows anything anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dan’s age really shows during all of this. in a good way. he’s the adult. he tells all the employees and the commentators and everyone what happened, in both worlds.

tommy and jon both go on twitter and thank people for their condolences. lovett doesn’t touch his phone.

 

dan and howli come to tommy’s and there’s a little crying. tommy wipes his tears with the sleeves of his sweatshirt and thanks them both for coming by. howli sits with emily and holds both her hands, while dan sits between lovett and tommy.

it’s an awkward silence. tommy doesn’t want to cry anymore and lovett can’t cry and they’re all just sitting there with nothing between them but the ache of a missing friend.

“we’re staying in town until the funeral,” howli says. she squeezes emily’s hand. “let us know if you need anything, okay?”

emily nods. “thank you,” she says softly.

dan gets up and heads to the fridge to grab a beer. tommy just stares at the cast on his foot and lovett goes to the bathroom and tries to throw up.

 

jon presses his entire body against dan’s when he comes by, letting out dry, shaky sobs as dan rubs slow and gentle circles into his back. they have their own secret sort of bonding moment, away from prying eyes, while lovett and emily and howli sit in the living room.

dan’s always been closer to jon than tommy. lovett should’ve known that. he’ll check in on him during the funeral.

howli has both hands on her stomach and lovett realizes he forgot that in the other reality (reality – he thinks he’s gonna stick with that for now. sounds very quantum break). he clears his throat. “how’s the, um, baby?” he asks.

“not due for another few months,” she replies, and her voice is calm and soothing in a way lovett didn’t appreciate before. and then she says, quietly, “tommy was really looking forward to meeting her.

the awkward silence resumes. this time, lovett is the one who goes to the kitchen and returns with drinks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

he gets the same indochino suit for both funerals. he gets fitted for one and memorizes the measurements to use for the other. no point in fucking this up when so many other things can go wrong. and maybe it’s weird he’s getting new suits for funerals but he needs something to focus on. something that isn’t imminent death and the fragility of life. times two because.

“you’re gonna be fine,” he tells himself in the mirror.

it’s gonna go to shit.

“it’s gonna be fine.”

your friends are having funerals for each other. you have to act like they’re fully and completely dead.

“they are.”

but they’re not. not really, anyway.

“shut up.”

you shut up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

obama doesn’t come to either funeral. they’re out of the country, they wouldn’t be able to make it in time, but they call emily and louise and offer their condolences. based on what lovett can gather, it’s not the exact same message in either universe. he didn’t expect it to be. of course not. the obamas wouldn’t do that.

ronan’s not there too. he came a few days earlier, in person, to offer his condolences and grieve in person, before he had to leave for his book tour in europe.

other than that, the funerals are well-attended. rahm and axe come in from chicago and give lovett an awkward handshake and a pat on the back, respectively.

tommy and jon hug alyssa, run their fingers through her hair and kiss her cheek. she gives lovett the most pitiful, sad smile and lovett knows he’s giving her one in return. there’s no other look to give when you see someone you love on an occasion like this.

josh shakes jon’s hand, his son in his arms, but he pulls tommy into a hug, holds him for a few moments and lets out a shaky sigh. he lingers longer in front of tommy’s body than jon’s. makes sense. they were closer, after all. it almost hurts to watch the sadness in his eyes.

cody gives them both hugs and even though lovett hates to be touched, he lets him hug him too. it’s not a fantastic feeling, his skin gets all prickly and he finds himself holding his breath without meaning to, but cody looks better for it so lovett lets it go.

people do weird things when they’re grieving. or trying to act like they’re grieving. or are grieving in two different universes and aren’t really sure what’s going on around them.

 

they’re both open-casket. when lovett gets to them, he looks everywhere but at their faces. jon’s fingernails are manicured. tommy’s wearing a watch. he does not look at their faces.

 

andy gives jon’s eulogy. lovett hasn’t seen much of him since the first couple of days, he’s been planning the whole funeral. there are lines under his eyes and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. he and lovett exchange an awkward one-armed hug later. fuck, he should’ve given up cody’s hug for this. of course andy needs it more.

the wake isn’t until the evening, at andy’s, and lovett finds tommy outside while everyone is inside mourning. he’s off his crutches now but he still stands with his weight clearly on one leg. if he smoked, lovett’s pretty sure he’d be smoking right now.

“hey,” lovett says, inclining his head. “mind if i stand here too?”

tommy shrugs. “knock yourself out.”

it’s not that quiet outside. the main door is open and they can hear people shuffling about inside, whispering and mumbling to each other. it brings back memories of jon’s wedding and lovett feels a tightness in his chest that he swallows down when he asks, “what would you want your funeral to be like?”

tommy doesn’t say anything like, “that’s a really weird question to ask,” or “not a great time, lovett” – he’s always been indulgent. he just shrugs and leans back. “i don’t know,” he says. “that’s not something i ever really thought about.”

“but if you had to,” lovett insists. “what’s the one thing you’d want there?” i can maybe swing it for you, even if i couldn’t do it for jon.

“i really have no idea,” tommy sighs. he shakes his head. “i’m sure whatever mom and everyone else put together is just fine. i don’t need much.” people start walking out and if he were smoking, this is the part where he’d drop the cigarette and crush it with his heel.

lovett’s parents walk out and they all walk silently to the car. “i’ll see you when i get back from the airport,” he tells tommy, unnecessarily.

tommy doesn’t reply.

 

taylor gives tommy’s eulogy. lovett doesn’t actually listen to much of it, because he’s sitting right behind louise and he can hear every sniffle and sob she lets out. the favreaus were more gentle and quiet in their grief but louise is.

it’s infuriating because lovett can’t say her son is fine. that her son just had a sprained ankle but he’s fine and he’s okay and please stop crying he doesn’t know what to do with crying he.

his mom reaches for his arm but he’s already sliding out of his seat, out of the row, sneaking through the side door until he’s outside in the air and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe –

hands cup his face. dan, sweet dan. “breathe,” he says, gently, calmly. “breathe, lovett, breathe.” he counts numbers and lovett inhales with them, and he counts more numbers and lovett exhales with them. he’s not sure he could do this on his own.

and then jon is there, looking at him with unabashed fear. he rushes over and immediately lovett wants him to leave. he can’t stand to see him. his hands look gentle, immaculate, like they’ve never seen a hard day’s work.

lovett wants to throw up. it was – is? great now he has to think of fucking tenses now – easier at jon’s funeral because it was his first funeral, there was no running dichotomy in his head tearing him to pieces because there’s his best friend watching him have a panic attack when there’s his best friend lying in a fucking coffin because he’s.

“what’s wrong?” jon asks. what’s wrong? what the fuck does it look like, jon? i’m having a fucking panic attack because you’re fucking dead.

“i’m fine,” lovett says. he halfheartedly pushes dan away and takes a deep breath. “i’m… tell louise i’m sorry.” he feels one of them reach for him – probably jon – and he shrugs them off as he walks around the building and back to his car.

he just needs to go home and curl up with his dog.

 

he throws up in emily’s bathroom. not a lot, but enough to make him groan and feel more sick than he was before. he uses jon’s mouthwash to clean the taste out of his mouth – not like jon’s gonna be using it anytime soon. is it too soon to make jokes like that? definitely if jon were fully dead but he’s, he’s, he’s, uh –

the door opens behind him and he meets tommy’s eyes through the mirror.

“oh,” tommy says. “i didn’t know someone was in here.”

“i wasn’t using it anyway,” lovett says. his mouth feels minty fresh.

“i don’t need to use it either,” tommy admits. “just… wanted to get away from it all.”

lovett nods. he gets it. he probably needs to get away from it all more than anyone else here and that’s something not worth bragging about. he wonders if it would be socially acceptable to dry-heave over the sink with tommy watching.

“did you drink a lot?” tommy asks.

“yeah,” lovett says.

it’s a very small bathroom. if lovett strains his ears, he can hear muffled talking in the distance, outside emily’s bedroom. somehow it all gets louder when tommy kisses him.

he just steps into lovett’s space, his hands cupping his cheeks as he leans down and kisses him. his fingers find their way into his curls and he tilts his head when lovett does, gripping the back of tommy’s head and pulling himself forward.

it’s.

they fumble a little, hands moving erratically now, tommy doesn’t know where to put his as lovett blindly feels for the counter and tries to hop on. tommy’s hands settle on his hips and helps him up and then they’re kissing again.

it’s.

lovett wonders if tommy can taste the mouthwash. probably not, he’s sucking on his lower lip, still holding his hips, he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing.

it’s.

it’s wet. lovett tastes tears. and then tommy pulls away, his head hung low, he presses his forehead against lovett’s shoulder and he. he. he.

“he’s gone,” tommy whispers. “he’s – he’s just. gone.”

lovett doesn’t know what to say. so he says nothing at all.

 

the other wake is also at emily and jon’s. their house is just the biggest. this time, lovett learns his lesson – less booze, and lock the door behind you in the bathroom.

he’s sitting next to ira and neither of them are talking and it’s the weirdest feeling in the world because they’re mourning a man lovett just tucked into bed in the other timeline – timeline? _timeline_. – but he’s dead in this one.

lovett stirs his drink with his cup and stares at the way it sloshes around. “i think i hate wakes.”

“yeah,” ira sighs. “i think everyone does.”

“why do we even have them?” lovett asks, looking over at him. ira shrugs, so he looks back at his drink. “i’m gonna put it in my will that no one’s allowed to have a wake for me. everyone should go to disneyland or a bar or something.”

“you don’t want a whole event dedicated to your memory?”

he shakes his head. “not like this. i want people to be happy when they think of me. i don’t want my memory associated with sadness.”

ira takes a long sip of his drink. “i think the choice will be out of your hands, once you’re dead, with regard to how people think and remember you.” he pauses. “it’s out of your choice now, too.”

lovett shrugs. “a guy can dream, can’t he?”

he finds jon in the kitchen when he’s trying to get another drink. he’s just staring down at the counter, motionless, and lovett has to tap his shoulder to bring him back down to earth.

“oh,” jon says. he clears his throat.

“hey,” lovett says. he licks his lips a little. “what are you thinking about?”

jon swallows and takes a moment to think of what he wants to say. as though he’s run out of words and has to go searching for them. fuck, lovett feels like he’s gonna throw up again. but he just stands there and watches jon quietly whisper, “i don’t really know what to think.”

it feels wrong. it feels so fucking wrong. there’s no way this guy in front of him is jon. it just feels so wrong. and the wrongness of it all is what makes it feel real. there’s no way this is fake because lovett would never imagine something as awful as this.

besides, most of his nightmares are self-deprecating. he’d never make anyone as wrong as jon.

“i can’t describe it,” jon continues. “i’ve written things for emotional moments, for sad moments, but i just…” he shakes his head. “you get it, don’t you? that you can’t put into words the feeling that you know you’re never gonna see your best friend ever again?”

lovett doesn’t. because he’s faced with the problem of the indescribable experience of being around people who are experiencing something you can’t relate to and no one else knows what you’re going through.

“did you take leo out for a walk yet?” he asks.

jon blinks. “i think emily did already.”

“take him out again. you…” he licks his lips again. when did they get so dry so fast? “you look like you could use the fresh air. i can host.” he has no idea how to host a wake but neither does jon so it’s probably fine.

“okay,” jon says. he turns, then turns back. “thank you.”

he didn’t need to say thank you. it sounds so weird that he said thank you. lovett spends all evening thinking about the meaning behind those small few words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

things change (from the past) but things stay the same (between the two timelines). with a notable exception.

in both timelines, the monday pod is effectively over. there’s no way they can go back into their dynamic. there’s no way they can keep doing, just the two of them, what all three should be doing together. like they’ve been doing the whole time. fuck, jon can’t even look at the recording room anymore.

tommy still does pod save the world. it takes him some time to stop recording from his house and coming into the office, but it’s easier once lovett’s cleaned out jon’s desk. they all sort of ignore that side of the room now when they work.

jon and dan do the thursday pod, and it’s like a complete throwback to the ringer days. lovett offers to join them but they say they’re fine without. they just need to find their rhythm once more.

and so, just to keep things as equal as possible, lovett offers to record the thursday pod with dan.

(okay he keeps saying thursday pod – they all do – even though they record and drop on friday now after the “news dump” and tommy moves pod save the world to monday and it works in a weird way but whatever. he’s not in charge of logistics.)

“you really wanna do that?” dan asks him over the phone.

“yeah,” lovett nods. he pulls pundit closer in his lap and scratches behind her collar. “we got a good dynamic, don’t we, dan?”

“i guess you could say that.” there’s some shouting on the other end and dan laughs. “all right, i gotta go, i’ll talk to you later.”

dan’s laugh might be the first time lovett felt happy in months.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

okay. ads are. they.

okay, they suck.

because they’re all just reading the fucking copy now and there’s no fun in reading the copy but also, there’s no fun in so many things anymore because one of them is gone and if they try to have fun, it feels like an insult.

it’s been a month. they can’t seem to move on.

tanya avoids looking over where tommy’s desk used to be, even though she sits right in front of it. elijah takes a while to get back into the groove of content, especially when emily comes by with leo and the absence of jon is stark and realizing.

but that’s not what he was talking about. he’s talking about ads.

 

tommy records pod save the world ads alone. tanya hands him the script and he reads off of it in a tone that isn’t quite monotone but it’s definitely not the same tone as it used to be when they did the ads before.

not even close.

“people skip the ads now,” elijah says, scrolling through twitter. “either that, or they’re complaining about how they’re not as funny anymore. even when it’s just you and dan.”

“yeah, well, why don’t they spend months mourning their best friend and then try to figure out how to run a company he created without him, huh?” lovett says. his first lovett or leave it show is in a few weeks and it’s a good thing too because he hasn’t quite gotten his bitchiness to translate properly into actual humor yet.

no one quite meets his eye when he looks around at them. if he looks right at her, he can see tanya’s lower lip tremble ever so slightly.

“okay,” he sighs. “i’ll talk to him tonight. maybe we can get back into the groove of things sooner than later, yeah?” he says this as though he’s spoken to tommy alone since that night at the wake. well, he’s seen tommy since then and they’ve hung out in group setting and it’s never been awkward, per se, but – whatever.

lovett can handle it. he’s a grown man, after all. and you can say he’s growing twice as much since he’s travelling between timelines constantly. he’ll be fine.

 

they’re recording pod save america ads, he and jon. they sit on opposite ends of the table – jon on his usual side and lovett on tommy’s side because you can’t really miss someone you just saw. fuck, people must think his grieving process is fucking shit.

elijah and travis sit in a corner, on their phones, while jon clears his throat. “today’s episode of pod save america is brought to you by harry’s razors.”

“jeff and andy ryan are both proud that their dad paul is giving up politics to spend more time at their blade factory with them.”

admittedly, it’s not that good of a joke. he could’ve done a lot better than that had he given it some more thought. but jon. jon laughs, he throws his head back and laughs and it’s like he was waiting for something to break.

it makes something in lovett’s chest flutter around a little weirdly.

“you know, i’ll be honest,” he continues, “paul ryan actually looks kinda good with a beard.”

jon’s still laughing a little while he mimes gagging. “you – you know when dan hears these ads, he’s gonna get on the next flight to la and give you a strongly-worded lecture about this, right?”

“i would not expect anything less from our resident paul ryan hater.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

he waits until the weekend to visit tommy. no, not because he’s feeling five kinds of awkward and embarrassed and generally weird about their last encounter. maybe tommy forgot about it. he was drunk. lovett wouldn’t blame him.

(somehow, lovett’s ended up with a surprisingly good memory ever since his world split into two mirroring halves that he keeps travelling between. small mercies, he supposes.)

he knocks on the door and tommy opens it, surprised. “oh,” he says. “hey.”

“hey,” lovett shifts from one foot to the other. “can i come in?” he holds up his phone. “i ordered pizza, it should get here sometime soon.”

“you don’t need a bribe to make me let you inside,” tommy says, but the corners of his mouth quirk as he steps aside and lets lovett through.

“call it insurance,” lovett calls out. “come on, there’s probably a movie marathon on tv somewhere, yeah?”

“there’s always a movie marathon on tv.” but tommy sits down next to him on the couch anyway, only getting up when the doorbell rings and the pizza’s arrived. it’s nothing fancy, just two guys sitting together, one of them eating a significant amount of pizza more than the other.

“what?” lovett huffs when tommy gives him a look during his fifth slice. “i skipped lunch, okay?” but instead of saying anything, tommy just rolls his eyes and goes back to watching tv.

it’s weird. tommy hasn’t been engaging much since the funeral. sort of gotten a little complacent with a lot of things, just less argumentative as a whole. maybe he’s appreciating his friends’ weird quirks more. or, more likely, he’s just tired.

there’s a commercial break and lovett thinks of a good joke to make about how dumb car commercials are but when he turns his head, tommy’s already leaning over and kissing him.

oh, so not only are they going to not talk about what happened at the wake, but they’re going to have a repeat of it too, huh? fucking repressed catholics who can’t get their emotions right. is tommy catholic? why is he thinking about this right now?

luckily, his body knows how to respond to kissing and he kisses back. there’s a bit of cheese stuck between tommy’s teeth and for some weird reason, it reminds him of jon. fucking hell, why can’t he be a normal fucking person for once?

to be fair, tommy doesn’t act normal either. he gets lovett into his lap, thighs straddling his hips, and he refuses to let him pull away for too long, as though if he did, the moment might end. and, to be fair, it probably would. lovett’s really not sure why he’s kissing tommy back.

and then tommy’s fumbling for the zipper of lovett’s pants and he’s tugging them down to brush his hand against his half-hard dick. lovett lets out a soft sigh into tommy’s mouth and he pulls him in closer, fistfuls of his hair in his hands.

it takes some blind groping and a strong ability not to giggle when he accidentally tickles tommy for lovett to slide his hand under his waistband and grab his dick. grab sounds like a pretty strong word? stroke? there, that’s better. he should shut up his internal monologue now.

tommy pulls away a little to kiss down his jaw. “oh, fuck,” he sighs. “fuck, _jon_.”

okay, the monologue is back. how weird is it that tommy’s calling him jon right now? does this really have anything to do with lovett right now or is he just the only jon available right now?

then tommy tugs his curls and lovett forgets to think, he just moans and tilts his head back. tommy’s teeth graze against his skin as he sucks a bruise into the side of lovett’s neck. he closes his eyes when he comes and he doesn’t say a word.

tommy. tommy says, “jon,” again when he comes.

while they’re both catching their breath, the tv volume turns back on and joseph gordon levitt and zoey deschanel are trying not to laugh at a funeral. lovett’s glad tommy turned the volume on – at least some part of him understands this is very much awkward.

lovett clears his throat. “i should – pundit’s probably missing me.”

“it’s late, yeah,” tommy nods. he clears his throat too and looks up at him. it’s weird looking at him like this, from a different angle. he looks almost vulnerable like this. it’s weird and it feels weird and lovett just wants to go home and take a shower.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“yeah. thanks for the pizza.”

lovett makes sure to zip his pants up and wipe his hand on the inside of his tommyjons before he leaves.

 

the weird sick feeling travels with him to jon’s timeline. he sits at his desk, pundit by his feet, and he’s supposed to be prepping for lovett or leave it but he just sort of stares at his computer screen and then drinks an entire can of diet coke before setting his head on the desk and letting out a silent groan.

“are you all right?” jon asks, voice full of concern.

“fine,” lovett mumbles. he doesn’t know how to explain he’s suffering from some sort of dimensional fever that’s fucking with his entire system and he should sleep it off but if he goes to sleep, he’ll go back to being sick in another timeline.

he hears jon roll his chair back, then he feels a hand on the back of his neck, sliding over to his shoulder. it tickles a little, especially where the cold metal of his wedding band touches his skin. “you sure? you feel a little warm.”

“i’m fine,” lovett says, a little more firmly this time. the flush on his face is just from the weird feeling. he gets up and heads for the kitchen. more diet coke ought to do the trick.

and elijah might think he’s whispering but lovett can hear him just fine, “i don’t think he’s fine.”

“is anyone really fine?” travis asks.

there’s the sound of paper being whacked against a human body and tanya says, “shut up, trav.”

jon lets out a giggle. what a dumbass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dan has always been the type of person who catches on pretty quickly when someone is acting weird. and lovett’s really been acting weird.

“hey, lovett?” dan says, a little tentative. they haven’t started recording yet, still checking audio and levels, so it’s really as good a time as any to have this conversation.

“yeah?” lovett asks, checking twitter. generally speaking, most of twitter is the same across both timelines. that doesn’t mean he isn’t constantly checking the website whenever he has a spare moment.

“i just wanted to know how you’re holding up,” he says. “it’s been a while since we saw each other in person and i just… wanted to ask outright how you are.”

okay, so lovett’s weird lack of grieving for tommy is completely noticeable. great. he should fix that. wait, fuck, tommy’s alive in this timeline. fuck. no wonder dan thinks he’s going crazy.

“i’m – i’m holding up,” lovett says. focus up, what’s happening right now? “i’m going out to dinner with emily tomorrow.”

“that’s good,” dan says. it’s clear he wants to ask more but then elijah says, “we’re ready to start recording,” and then lovett sets down his phone and turns to his laptop and they start talking about the pod.

 

dan calls him once he and jon have finished recording the pod for the day. he sounds nervous, careful, “hey, lovett, i was just calling to see… to see how you’re holding up, you know?”

and lovett realizes that dan is his favorite guy in whatever timeline he’s in. he thinks he might start crying. fuck, he’s really a wreck in the jon timeline, huh, with that whole breakdown at the funeral? or is he more of a wreck in the tommy timeline?

actually, he’s just a wreck in both. that’s just how it is.

“i’m holding up, dan,” he says, smoothly. “how are you and howli?”

dan’s tone gets a hundred times more comfortable and even excited when he starts talking about howli’s ultrasound and lovett smiles to himself as he listens. sometimes he forgets he doesn’t speak to dan on the phone once a week in this timeline.

every week feels like a century. howli has been pregnant for millennia. it’s hard to keep it all in perspective.

“we should do ads with dan,” lovett says during lunch. jon raises a brow.

“really?” he asks. “you think he’d be into that?”

lovett thinks about all the dumb jokes he’s made with dan in their tiny recording studio, miles apart, and nods. “yeah, i think he’ll enjoy it.” more dan time is more good times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

for lovett or leave it, he tries to make the panels exactly the same. the first show is erin, ira, and akilah and they’re absolutely fantastic.

the weird thing is, the people in the audience aren’t exactly the same. well, maybe it’s not entirely weird, lovett did read the wikipedia page on the butterfly effect one time when he was bored. and there have been subtle differences between the two timelines since they split apart, nothing too major so far (besides the obvious) but. it’s still weird.

he looks at it like he’s doing two live shows. same crew, same audience, same topic – just fix up the jokes between the two takes.

 

when they’re getting drinks after the show, tommy raises a brow when he sees lovett typing furiously on his phone. “what are you doing – cataloging your jokes?”

lovett rolls his eyes. “it’s called workshopping, tommy.”

“how is it workshopping when you’re done with the show?”

 

elijah gives him a weird look when he sees him groaning and gripping his hair while he’s trying to remember what the fuck he wrote down last night.

“what’re you doing?” he asks.

“workshopping,” lovett mumbles, pushing back his curls. fuck, he shouldn’t have gotten drunk. he shouldn’t have followed tommy into the bathroom and he most certainly should not have gotten on his knees and sucked him off right there in the fucking stall.

he can taste the salt and the sweat in the back of his throat, see tommy’s head hit the wall with his mouth hanging open, but for the life of him he cannot remember what he wrote on his fucking iphone. why the fuck doesn’t the cloud work across timelines?

“you don’t need to workshop,” jon hums. “you’re a natural. you’ll be great.”

“i know that,” lovett rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling because it is nice to be appreciated like that. just like tommy’s been weird, jon’s been weird too. if his heart was on his sleeve before, it’s in his hands now. he doesn’t even check twitter much anymore except to like other people’s tweets.

it’s weird. really weird.

-

once lovett forgets to feed pundit because he thought he already fed her. he sets a checklist on his phone after that, a daily to-do list, because it’s starting to blur in his mind where he is and who he is.

he cuddles with her every night and whispers into her fur, “i don’t know what i am anymore.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it comes as a punch in the gut when emily says she’s moving in with her parents for the summer. she’s been living with her sister for a while and while it’s been a commute to see her, he’s been able to see her.

but ohio. ohio is. far. very far.

“i just need some time away, you know?” she says, picking at her plate with her fork while she talks. “some time to just think and process and plan what i wanna do next.”

and lovett knows. he understands it completely. in fact, he would give up an arm and a leg to just run away from it all and move miles away and just. sit and breathe for a solid month or something. and besides, here she lost her husband.

he’s weird about physical affection but he reaches over and puts her hand in his. “hey,” he says, softly, “you do what’s best for you, all right?”

tears form in her eyes and she wipes them away with her palms. they hug for what feels like an hour outside the restaurant before she has to go in order to miss traffic.

he’d give up a limb for a vacation but losing emily is like losing a limb. at least she’s okay. at least she’s still alive.

 

he drops by their house unannounced, pundit on her leash, and he just steps inside without so much as an explanation. “hey guys, what’s for dinner tonight?”

it takes jon a second to catch up. “we’re making quesadillas in the kitchen. might need an extra hand to keep the dogs away from the falling food.”

“yes, of course, because leo is notoriously ill-behaved and never listens to anyone when they tell him to do something,” lovett nods sagely.

jon rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything as lovett plops down on the couch and reaches for the remotes. “hey, em, what day does the bachelor come on?”

“is that really what you wanna watch tonight?” she asks.

lovett smirks. “i bet i can guess who doesn’t get a rose tonight.” reality television is the same in every timeline. unless tommy goes on the next season of the bachelor. which, why would he?

he sets his head on emily’s shoulder and grabs her arm and jon rests his hand on his shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

emily goes on a work trip one weekend, so lovett goes to jon’s. call it a hunch, but he has a feeling that he doesn’t like to be alone for too long. not anymore, not since.

he hasn’t even driven since the accident. how could he, knowing what he knows? knowing what happened the last time he was behind the wheel? fuck, they’re all still kind of traumatized and if he’s honest, they’re all just pointedly not dealing with it.

lovett can feel jon’s gratitude emanating from him the moment they meet outside the door. he gives him a relieved smile, “i’ve already set up dinner and we can watch the trump rally together,” and lovett doesn’t know how to say that he’s already seen the rally and he can probably quote the words anderson cooper is gonna use to describe it when it’s over.

pundit and leo are off playing somewhere, they’re sitting next to each other eating box mac and cheese (that’s actually kinda good), and trump’s saying some blah blah blah nonsense about the wall, and then jon says, “you know you’re my best friend, right?”

tommy’s your best friend, lovett thinks, and then he remembers, oh, right. so instead he clears his throat and goes, “you really expect me to believe dan isn’t number one?”

jon chokes on his water and spits it out as he laughs. “fine, you caught me, i was just trying to make you feel better.”

“great, now my self-esteem is shot,” lovett jokes.

“no it’s not,” jon chuckles. “you know you’re incredible.”

it’s weird, jon has his heart in his mouth, he says whatever he feels all the time now. it’s generally made him a nicer person who always has a compliment for everyone but it just feels so weird. it makes lovett feel weird because he can’t help but think, is this compensating for something? a missed opportunity where he didn’t tell someone how he felt and now he can’t?

it doesn’t surprise him at all when they kiss. it feels oddly natural, like the whole night was leading up to this. which, maybe it was. maybe emily left this weekend to give jon a chance to go up to lovett and confess his feelings or whatever.

jon kisses completely differently than tommy. he’s more hesitant, more nervous, like he’s trying to get something and he just can’t quite find what he’s looking for. his hand is firm and unmoving on lovett’s cheek, but his thumb brushes against his bottom lip as he pulls away.

it’s just one kiss. he doesn’t even move in for another one. he looks almost. scared. going back over his actions in his head and going, “fuck what did i just do?”

lovett doesn’t kiss him again, he’s still processing, but he takes his hand in his and they just sit back and watch tv until they fall asleep together on the couch.

 

“hey, tommy?” lovett pulls away for a moment, he’s lying back on his couch and tommy’s on top of him, he moves down to his collarbone when lovett starts talking. “what are we?”

tommy looks up and blinks. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, what are we?” he gestures in the space between them. “are we friends, boyfriends, fuckbuddies, what?”

“i don’t know,” tommy shrugs. “does it matter?”

it matters to me, lovett thinks. i want at least one stable, defined relationship in my two lives and i’m kinda in some weird limbo zone with everyone i know because i’m tired of almost everyone except like three people and i have no idea what we are to each other.

then tommy finds his nipples and there’s no more thinking after that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it’s eerie how different his conversations are with ronan. he can be honest with ronan in a way that he can’t be honest with everyone else, because he’s not around and he has no stake in any outcome except whatever is best for his friend.

it’s refreshing to talk to someone like that.

“so i have no idea where i’m going with tommy,” he sighs, and ronan hums, “i’m not sure he does either.”

“so i have no idea what jon is thinking,” he sighs, and ronan hums, “i don’t think he does either.”

he wonders what ronan would think if lovett told him he’s living in two different timelines. well, if he gave ronan proof, he’d absolutely believe him. the problem is, he’d need ronan to tell him something in one timeline he’d never say in the other, and then say that to him in the other timeline, then have that ronan tell him something new to tell the other ronan.

it’s confusing. plus he doesn’t know which ronan he should confess to first – the ronan who’s helping him deal with an emotionally repressed fuckboy, or the ronan who’s helping him deal with an emotionally vulnerable fuckboy.

“is something up?” ronan asks him, two different times.

“no,” lovett says, both times. “no, i’m fine.”

at this point, he’s not even fooling himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

so they do one live show. just one in san francisco at some fancy theatre with erin joining the three of them.

it’s so fucking weird.

 

he and jon drive there a day before with travis and elijah and tanya, stopping at nearly every rest stop to use the bathroom and sightsee.

“is this what it’s like with kids?” jon asks, as he and lovett stand by the bus, waiting for their employees to return with fast food and snacks.

“it’s what it’s like when i’m travelling with pundit,” lovett admits. “she has to stop every five seconds to pee.”

“sounds just like her dad,” jon grins and lovett slaps his arms as hard as he can, but all it does is make his hand ache and himself feel embarrassed.

and then, because he’s feeling brave, jon sneaks a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth. lovett’s still a little breathless even when they’re all getting back on the road.

 

he and tommy fly there on the day of the show with travis and elijah. tanya stayed behind to do some work. lovett hates it when the differences between the timelines is stark like this, the missing pieces and cracks so visible. he preferred it when it all blended into one and he didn’t know where he was. it felt complete then. now he feels empty.

it’s a small plane, one side with two seats and the other side with three. it feels weird to be sitting on this side because there’s no third seat next to them that’s supposed to have this gap-toothed who makes sure to pop an ambien right before takeoff or whatever.

and then tommy nudges his side when they’re at cruising altitude and whispers, “do you wanna join the mile-high club?”

lovett covers his face with both hands to hide how hard he’s laughing at that fucking dumb joke.

 

and then the shows themselves. they’re. they’re.

lovett doesn’t like them. because it’s been a couple of months since they’ve buried their best friend and suddenly it feels like a dishonor to his memory that they’re doing something like this now. what’s the grieving period for a podcast host before you’re allowed to do shows without him?

he makes the mistake of checking twitter while they’re doing mike checks and he didn’t realize how many people would be pissed, would consider this an insult that they’re doing this the same year their friend passed away.

these people don’t know what they’re talking about. jon and tommy both survived that car crash. they’re out here on this fucking tour, in both timelines. fuck you, strangers.

but there are still problems.

tommy and dan haven’t spoken to each other in months, and their entire dynamic is awkward and stilted, like they’re strangers that just met and not friends who’ve known each other for years.

jon keeps looking at the seat where tommy should be, he acts like he’s never done a live show before and he misses all his cues, it’s like he’s lost a fucking limb right before he came.

the audience questions sound like they’re meant for the one man who isn’t at that particular show. lovett feels fucking ashamed by the end of it.

he pops an ambien on the bus and the plane and tries to hack his body into giving him dreams again. it doesn’t work, he ends up throwing up on the plane next to elijah, but it was worth a desperate try.

there’s a consensus in both timelines not to do another live show for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

he gets an alert on his phone that says “deadline to buy present” and he has no fucking clue what it means until he checks the date. oh fuck. oh fucking fuck.

ohio is a few hours earlier than la but emily is still up when he calls. “hello?” she yawns. he realizes he hasn’t called her in a while in this timeline, because he always saw her in the other one. fuck.

“hi,” lovett says quietly. “how are you? how’s ohio? tell me everything.”

there’s some shuffling on the other end. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

“no,” lovett says honestly. he’s sort of lost the concept of a lot of things, lately. “come on, tell me everything.”

she yawns again but she talks, slowly, about how she’s adjusting and how leo is adjusting and how her parents are helping her every step of the way and how her new job is keeping her busy and lovett doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of her voice, no matter how many times he hears it.

 

before the alarm goes off, lovett stops by emily’s house and hands her flowers. “happy anniversary,” he smiles. she laughs, shaking her head, “i can’t believe you remembered.”

“i might’ve set a calendar reminder,” lovett admits, managing to fake a convincing blush. she laughs and rolls her eyes, and he looks past her and into the hallway behind her. “is jon in?”

“yeah, do you want me to go –”

“tell him he has the day off,” he says. “stay at home, go out and have dinner, do dumb happy couples stuff. both of you.”

emily raises her brows in mock surprise. “who are you and what did you do to jon lovett?”

lovett huffs, “what, i’m not allowed to support the love and marriage of my two best friends?”

“well, it’s not exactly what you’re known for,” emily says in a mock whisper, and lovett swats her arm with a laugh.

he’s smiling when he gets into the office.

 

“hey,” lovett turns his head and looks at tommy. he clears his throat. “did you – did you talk to emily last night?”

tommy looks up from his computer and looks back at him. “yeah,” he says. “yeah, i… i did.”

“oh.” lovett was not expecting that. “oh, that’s… good.”

they both go back to whatever it is they’re supposed to be doing. Sometimes things work out, it seems.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “so emily couldn’t make it,” ira says as he leads lovett around the house, “but she made sure i got everything to your specifications. and this year,” he grabs something from a table and holds it up in front of his face, “we got pundit masks.”

“that’s fucking awesome,” lovett grins. fuck, there’s even a felt halo on them.

it’s a fun party. all of ira’s parties are, but it’s even better that this one has all his favorite unhealthy snacks that no one else likes but now everyone is being forced to eat, and that’s even better than the presents he’s got.

he’s walking around and looking to feed louis some deep-fried mac and cheese bites when he runs into tommy. tommy, who said he’d be too busy to show up to the party too.

lovett blinks and takes a step back. “hey,” he says. “you – you made it.”

“yeah,” tommy says. “yeah i guess i did.”

the weird awkward memory of the last time they were at a large gathering together hangs between them, and they both shift around on their feet, not quite looking at each other as people walk around them.

eventually, lovett speaks up first. “do you remember my last birthday?”

tommy still looks away when he replies, “i don’t really think about it much.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” lovett frowns. fuck, why did tommy have to become such a weird fucking philosophy bro after his friend died, huh?

“it’s just –” tommy pauses and shakes his head. “just, sometimes you should let the past die, you know? give it a proper burial and let it rest in piece.”

“i think that’s a pretty tasteless analogy right there,” lovett snaps. and he wants to fight more but he just lets him shake his head and walk away.

they angrily make out in the back of a lyft when the party’s over, and lovett leaves a bite mark on his shoulder before pushing him away and getting out.

fuck him. just – fuck him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “so what are you guys thinking of for halloween this year?” lovett asks. instead of jack-o-lanterns this year, they’re decorating their offices in a spooky themed setting.

tanya sticks glow-in-the-dark cobwebs in the corners of the room. elijah hangs a ghost in the hallway that lovett keeps walking into every single time because it’s only there in one timeline. travis sits in his chair and cuddles with pundit while acting like no one sees him sneaking candy from the fridge.

“oh, i don’t know,” jon shrugs. he’s got leo in his arms and he’s trying to get him to sit still long enough to get the fake glasses on his tiny face. “last year, the costumes were inspired. remember your glaadiator?”

“yeah,” lovett hums with a soft smile. that was an awesome fucking pun. he’s gotta do something half as good this year.

and then jon says, in a quieter tone, “remember that halloween where the three of us dressed as the trump siblings?”

“three of you,” lovett corrects. he’s not smiling anymore. because if tommy’s the type to bury the past in the backyard and never speak of it, then jon’s the type to taxidermy the past and bring it up at every fucking opportunity.

“we had a really good time that year,” jon continues. “he – he thought it was really funny. and he – he said it would be gross if em and i kissed because we were dressed as siblings. that’s… that’s why we went with husband and wife the next year.” he lets out a sigh. “i wonder what he’d want to do this year.”

he’s not doing halloween this year, lovett thinks. none of us are. we don’t really see the point since emily isn’t there and you aren’t there and we’re all turning nihilistic without you. and the worst bit is, you seem to be trying to keep the memory of tommy doesn’t even fucking think about you. he doesn’t want to talk about you. he doesn’t want to fucking remember you. so stop being so damn idealistic you fucking –

lovett stands up. “i’m gonna get a drink. you need anything?”

jon shakes his head. “no. thanks.” he runs his fingers over lovett’s palm as he walks by and it leaves his whole hand feeling tingly.

he hates it. he hates everything. he absolutely hates fucking everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the thing is, lovett fucked up.

the thing is, the basic principle of the butterfly effect is that even the smallest event can have larger consequences. it’s combined with the domino effect. or it is the domino effect. fuck, he doesn’t know. the laws of physics are broken around him.

the thing is, he really fucked up.

sure, he realized the differences between the two timelines. and at first it was easy to keep track of them. but then tommy had to kiss him and jon had to kiss him and then the timelines kept fragmenting and fragmenting and then the only thread holding them together was shit like the bachelor but that meant nothing.

the thing is, the pods are different. the thing is, the guests are different. the thing is, tommy started using twitter to get into fights and jon started using twitter to just support candidates running in the midterms. the thing is, lovett and dan didn’t do many interviews with politicians because they had more fun talking to journalists. the thing is, dan and jon better at interviewing politicians than jon and tommy were.

the thing is, there were so many differences and that should have been a sign but lovett, human that he is, just looked at what was relevant to him and ignored the rest. the thing is, he ignored the impact crooked media has on voters. the thing is, he didn’t even know they had an impact on voters.

he fucked up.

 

in the timeline where jon favreau is dead, the crooked media team orders pizza and watches cnn for the midterm results. democrats narrowly win the house but they don’t win the senate. word comes in that there’s gonna be changes in leadership. chuck schumer is gonna be gone. nancy pelosi won’t have the gavel for long.

in the timeline where tommy vietor is dead, the crooked media team orders pizza and watches cnn for the midterm results. in a shocking landslide, the democrats not only win the house but they also win the senate. word comes in that there are already articles of impeachment being drafted, and that the senate and house intelligence committees are reexamining their findings on russia.

 

in both timelines, lovett stares at the results and goes, “oh, fuck.”


End file.
